YA Ch51: Shen Ying

As soon as Shen Ying appeared, the comment section began mourning.

[A-Ying, my dear A-Ying, boo-hoo-hoo…]

[My unresolved regret from male-focused novels; give me back my A-Ying!]

[You heartless Han Di Ba Yu, how dare you make A-Ying look so good; are you trying to kill me?]

[But, to be fair, the one who drew A-Ying beautifully is Ming Yan.]

[Ming Yan is always a great beauty. How could a great beauty be wrong? It’s all Han Di Ba Yu’s fault!]

[I haven’t read the original work. What are you all crying about? Does Shen Ying die later?]

However, the book fans were unusually well-mannered. Not a single person spoiled the plot. They just focused on mourning and kept tipping, asking the production team to draw a few more beautiful outfits for Shen Ying.

The fans were reacting so strongly because Shen Ying, as an important supporting character in the book Shooting the Heavenly Wolf, was extremely intelligent and the strongest assistant, yet died just as Hua Wenyuan’s grand ambitions were about to be realized, falling just before the dawn.

During the serial publication, Shen Ying was incredibly popular, and his death only pushed that popularity to its peak.

Back then, in an online poll for the most unresolved supporting character, Shen Ying surpassed all the “white moonlight” characters, winning the annual champion title with ten times the votes of the second-place finisher.

The top fan, Hong Wuyang, seeing the animated Shen Ying up close, had reddened eyes.

Over there, Hua Wenyuan sharply turned his head to look over. Lu Yu quickly blocked his view and gestured to Hua Wenyuan that everything was fine.

Hua Wenyuan realized it was his second uncle causing mischief and, being accustomed to it, stopped paying attention, once again focusing on the young scholar in front of him.

Seeing Hua Wenyuan remain silent for a while, Shen Ying slyly smiled, “I misspoke; it’s not joining the rebels, but turning to the light.”

The corner of Hua Wenyuan’s mouth twitched, “Scholar Shen has great talent and should participate in the imperial exams. How can you join the rebels?” Though he was advising him, the fact that he didn’t shy away from the term “rebels” meant he was acknowledging his rebellion.

Shen Ying shook his head and put down the heavy bookcase on his back, “And what if I become the top scholar? This kingdom won’t last until the day I take office as prime minister, so why waste the effort?”

Immediately, the tent was filled with gasps.

These soldiers, who had followed Hua Wenyuan into rebellion in confusion, had never thought deeply about why Hua Wenyuan was rebelling. They just felt that following him had better prospects than following the emperor. Now, a renowned scholar they had once only looked up to had come to join them, even explicitly stating that the Zhou dynasty would fall. How could they not be shocked? This was a scholar; how could a bookish man be so bold?

At the same time, these men, including the blacksmith, felt reassured. If a scholar was here, it meant following General Hua in rebellion was the right choice.

Hua Wenyuan was also scrutinizing this future top scholar. Scholars valued integrity above all, especially in this era where Confucianism had reached its peak. Scholars believed “starving to death is a minor matter; losing integrity is a major one.” As an outstanding scholar, how could Shen Ying so easily agree to join the rebels?

Moreover, how did Shen Ying know he was rebelling?

Seeing Hua Wenyuan’s confusion, Shen Ying didn’t answer but asked instead, “General Hua, at this moment, you should be leading your troops to Han City. Why are you here, fighting a group of mere blacksmiths and occupying this small city?”

Hua Wenyuan’s brow twitched, his gaze becoming sharp.

“Let’s not beat around the bush, General. Take a look at this. It’s an article I wrote on the way.” Shen Ying took out a thin sheet of rice paper from his bookcase, filled with tiny characters. “If, after reading this, you still think I’m useless, I’ll leave immediately and go take the imperial exam.”

Hua Wenyuan took the paper and carefully examined it, his pupils shrinking sharply. What was written wasn’t some beautiful essay but a list of names—names of people in and around Jiangzhou, including their backgrounds and talents. Some were famous scholars, while others seemed unremarkable, even unknown to him.

Hua Wenyuan looked up at Shen Ying again, and the other man gave him a harmless smile.

Hua Wenyuan understood: this man had also been reborn!

Shen Ying had an eidetic memory, so if he had been reborn, he would certainly remember every detail clearly. Thus, by observing that Hua Wenyuan’s military movements were completely different from their previous life, Shen Ying deduced that Hua Wenyuan had also been reborn—and had rebelled.

Hua Wenyuan folded the list carefully and tucked it away in his chest, treasuring it.

This was invaluable to him! As a military general, he was blind to the civil officials’ faction, and in his previous life, he had gone to the border early, knowing little about the court—who was good, who was bad, who was truly talented, and who was just pretending. But Shen Ying, if he had been reborn, was a young scholar who had become the top scholar, learned under great Confucian masters, served as a close minister to the emperor, and toured the provinces. He knew more than anyone else.

Was this what his second uncle had called a cheat?

Hua Wenyuan stepped back and bowed deeply to Shen Ying. “If Sir Shen is willing to assist me, it is truly my fortune. Please accept my bow.”

The personal guards on both sides were stunned, not understanding why their general had suddenly changed his attitude and was bowing to this young scholar.

Shen Ying didn’t dodge and calmly accepted the salute.

Hua Wenyuan gestured for Shen Ying to take a seat and called for a soldier to carry the casually discarded bookcase to the tiger skin rug in front.

Shen Ying naturally sat on the left side of the main seat, picked up the documents on the table, and began reading. The complicated and disorderly matters were quickly sorted out by Shen Ying, who swiftly handled them with his elegant scholar’s handwriting.

Hua Wenyuan asked tentatively, “Sir Shen, have you done this before?”

Without looking up, Shen Ying wrote down beautiful, flawless characters, “I did it for ten years. It was bitter beyond words.”

These words were an admission.

Shen Ying was indeed reborn and had lived longer than Hua Wenyuan in their previous life. He had witnessed the downfall of the country, powerless to stop it. That one phrase—”bitter beyond words”—left one wondering if he referred to the bitterness of official duties or the pain of guarding a crumbling kingdom.

Hua Wenyuan sat beside Shen Ying, smiling bitterly, “Bitter beyond words… Ha ha… Please, teach me, Sir.”

The soldier Hong Wuyang eagerly moved the bamboo bookcase, gently setting it down, then, with permission from Lu Yu, enthusiastically poured tea for Shen Ying. Upon hearing Shen Ying’s quiet thanks without lifting his head, the man trembled with excitement, breathing heavily, nearly fainting.

Lu Yu quickly pulled the overly excited man out of the tent, “So, it turns out you’re a fan of Shen Ying. I thought you were a fan of Hua Wenyuan.”

The man said, “I am! I’m a mother to supporting characters! And I haven’t even settled things with you yet, mmph…”

Lu Yu quickly covered the soldier’s mouth, whispering, “No spoilers!” While many viewers watching the live broadcast were book fans, plenty hadn’t read the original. If there were no spoilers, people would be curious enough to read the original, subscribing to it and earning Lu Yu more royalties.

Even small earnings add up!

The man nodded, “Okay, we’ll talk after the broadcast.”

Once the live broadcast ended, Hong Wuyang climbed out of the gaming pod, waving his arms in celebration that he’d seen Shen Ying. Then he looked eagerly at Lu Yu and said, “This time, can’t you let Shen Ying live? You’ve got that keyboard that can change the plot live, right?”

Lu Yu coldly replied, “No.”

“Why not? Whatever you want, just name your price.” Hong Wuyang extended a leg, indicating that he had money and was ready to spend it.

“Ah, it’s not about money.” Lu Yu sighed, turning to unbuckle Ming Yan’s seatbelt, then buried his face in Ming Yan’s shoulder, laughing secretly.

Ming Yan gave him a gentle pat and stood up, advising, “Every character has their destined fate. If Shen Ying didn’t die, you wouldn’t love him so much, right?”

“No, I’d still love him if he lived,” Hong Wuyang clenched his fist, “He’s done so much for Hua Wenyuan. Why should he die? He should rise to power and become prime minister, holding sway over the court!”

“No, no, no,” Lu Yu wagged a finger, “Wu-ge, you don’t understand. This is art. Only if he dies can Hua Wenyuan’s path to the throne be complete.”

“Don’t call me Wu-ge; it sounds weird. If anything, call me Second Brother Wu; I’m the second in my family,” Hong Wuyang muttered, but he stayed focused, “Complete what? Doesn’t an emperor need loyal and good officials?”

Lu Yu looked up at the live-stream camera outside the glass. It couldn’t pick up the sound, but it could see the scene inside. He picked up a Hua Wenyuan body pillow with heavy heart and stuffed it into Wu-ge’s arms, speaking solemnly: “Only this way can he be a perfect emperor, achieving eternal dominance but suffering eternal solitude.”

Hong Wuyang, clutching the body pillow, gradually developed a determined expression, “Just tell me, how much do you want?”